“This is all wrong,” I said to Isaiah. “I keep doing everything backwards.”
“Char. Check for a heartbeat, then we need to get out of here. There’s only one reason they’d want him knocked out. They’re coming for you.”
I blinked. “Yeah.” He was right. I wrapped my arms around Eren’s body, pulling his chest up as much as I could. What green lights was he talking about? I’d thought I was close to figuring something out, but that didn’t fit in anywhere. “I mean, he’s alive. Breathing. The lights went off a few times.”
“That was probably me. I had to disable the surveillance system. May have gotten a few wires crossed. My usual tech guy is trying to kill me. You understand.”
“I do, actually. Speaking of which, how are you here?”
“Funny story. I was sitting in a Remnant prison, thinking of interesting ways to kill Adam, when your dad showed up with his own little personal army.”
“They’re more like a strike team.”
“Either way, it’s on. Everyone’s getting ready to fight.”
“Nothing good will come of that,” I muttered, and froze.
Behind him, the door began to open again. Whoever was on the other side must not have expected the lock, because it stuck for a moment while the keypad reset. Then the lock flicked off.
Someone was using an administrative badge, then.
Weapons, weapons. Someone had swept the room for weapons. I glanced around, frantic. Surely I could find something sharp and pointy.
“Speaking of fighting,” Isaiah whispered. “Nothing good can come of this, either.”
“Please tell me you brought a gun,” I said, ducking behind Eren’s desk, which lined the back of his couch.
“I’m really no good with guns, little bird,” said Isaiah.
I grabbed a screen stem from the desk and gritted my teeth. As weapons went, I’d done better. “Fair enough. This is the worst honeymoon ever.”
“But I brought a stunner.”
I rifled through the desk drawer, still in a crouch. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”
The door swished open, and even though I couldn’t see him, I recognized the intruder from the way his bulk blocked out the light from the hall.
Jorin Malkin had entered the room.
Thirty-four
His mask was off, and his stunner was out. I didn’t see a gun, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t packing.
This was it. I’d married the Commander’s son, so he’d sent Jorin to kill me. There would be nothing stopping him now. Our sick cycle would end, and soon.
Around and around and around we go. Where it stops, nobody knows.
At least the Commander and I were done making idle threats at each other. There was something to be said for that.
Isaiah had disappeared behind the bed. I stood up from behind the desk, hunched my shoulders, and held my hands in front of me. “Please, don’t hurt me.” I raised the pitch of my voice and let it shake.
The stunner cracked to life in response, but I’d expected that. Jorin would almost certainly try to kill me slowly, instead of with a bullet. By the time his face had taken on that stupid, evil grin of anticipation, I was halfway through the distance between us. The lit end of the stunner caught me in the mouth, but not before I’d shoved Eren’s screen stem into his side, just above the black strap of his belt.
The room pitched, but the stun was shorter than usual, and I was used to the feeling. Well, to the extent that you can ever get used to the feeling that your body is pulling apart from your soul. When the whiteness in my vision yielded to sight an instant later, I was lying halfway on top of the bed, blinking into the lights.
Jorin hadn’t screamed. That was a problem. First of all, it forced me to question whether I’d landed my attack, even though I had definitely felt the pen enter his flesh. Secondly, I had no idea where he was. And third, it was just plain creepy. A reminder that he was a thousand times stronger than I was, and that he’d trained to fight. To kill. I looked around frantically.
My eyes seemed to move a half-second slower than my head, and I blinked. This wasn’t the effect of the stunner. I tasted sugar.
I wanted to sleep.
Wait, no. I couldn’t sleep. Jorin was trying to kill me.
The bed. Of course. Of course the Commander had poisoned the bed.
A dark figure moved near my legs, and I kicked out as hard as I could. The blow caught him in the sternum, but he didn’t even slow down. He was like a train, and I was like, well, me. A small-ish teenager with zero combat training who’d been sedated by a mattress.
My other leg swung out instinctively, and I saw the stunner fly out of his hand and onto the carpet. Apparently, even my legs were afraid of dealing with that again.
His hands reached for my neck, and I suppressed the urge to block them, since it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, I pressed a fingernail into his eye as hard as I could. He backed up momentarily, and I leaned forward to claw at the spot where I’d stabbed him. The stem was no longer there, so I grated my fingers across the open wound.
That earned me a grunt and a two-second break. I shimmied off the bed onto the floor, then threw myself in the direction of the stunner. I got maybe six inches before his vice-like hands closed around my thigh and yanked me backward. It was enough slack to grab the stunner, though, and I gripped it furiously in two fists before swinging it across Jorin’s head like a baseball bat.
His hand went to his head, blocking me easily. I swung again, even harder, but he caught the end of the stunner. I engaged the trigger, and Jorin jumped back at the resulting crack, instantly releasing his grip.
Interesting. He’s as afraid of that thing as I am. More, even.
He backed away, and I cracked the stunner again. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
“Beetch.”
“Just stand right there. Don’t move.” I pointed the stunner at his face.
Jorin raised his hands, a mockery of surrender, as though to say, You can’t control me, and began to circle.
I stepped away from him, keeping the stunner raised, then realized he’d blocked the door. I had nowhere to go. I was blocked on two sides by the wall, and the bed was right behind me. Eren slept peacefully at my feet. Isaiah was somewhere behind me, but I didn’t want to give him away just yet. Just in case he had a plan of some kind.
Which left… talking.
“So. You drugged the bed.”
“A wedding present for the happy couple from the father of the groom.”
“It’s a shame he couldn’t deliver it himself.”
I’d have better odds being locked in a cage with a tiger. I needed to get his back to Isaiah, and signal Isaiah to attack. I swayed back and forth, letting the stunner crack a few times. Jorin took a step closer, menacing me. If I stunned him first, I had a shot at surviving. But if he reached me before the stunner connected, it would all be over. I wouldn’t get a second shot.
He sashayed to the other side, his sickening smile widening by the moment. I mirrored him, cracking the stunner a few more times for good measure. I didn’t know how long we could keep this up. Stalemate, as Isaiah would say.
Jorin seemed to have the same thought. He was a calculating man, but impatient to get back to hurting me. He made the first real move: sliding to the side, giving me a clear path to the door.
I knew I’d never make it that far.
I angled my back to the door, and Jorin took the bait, advancing toward me, a teasing expression on his face.
“Now!” I shouted.
Isaiah came flying over the bed and brought his stunner down on Jorin’s head with a thick crack. He pressed the stunner into the softest part of Jorin’s neck, and I cringed as the smack of electricity filled the room.
“Shoot him, Char,” said Isaiah. “The world isn’t safe while he’s in it.”
Moving mechanically, I unlatched Jorin’s gun from its holster, flicked off the safety, and cocked it, all in one motion.
/>
But something kept me from pulling the trigger. “I—”
The hesitation was all Jorin needed. He lunged at me again, before he’d even stood up completely.
Isaiah stunned him from behind, and the jolt went through Jorin’s body and into mine. I pulled the trigger, over and over, but the gun didn’t fire. I blinked. It must have been disabled by the electricity. I never thought I’d miss Earth guns. Reliable, mechanical. Able to shoot through glass and skin alike.
I felt like my teeth were splitting in half and could not stop the desperate cry that escaped my lips. I landed clumsily on my back, my fall partially broken by the edge of the bed. When my head hit the carpet, the blood-covered screen stem bounced into my field of vision. It lay on the linoleum, just under the kitchen table.
Around and around.
We both knew that one of us wouldn’t leave the room alive. He’d made that choice before he came through the door.
What Jorin didn’t know was that I’d made a decision, too: it wouldn’t be me.
He howled in pain, a wild, unpredictable noise, and the force of it seemed to slow Isaiah for just long enough. Jorin’s enormous boot caught him in the hip, and Isaiah was tossed into the wall. From there, he never regained his balance. Jorin’s other leg flipped around, grabbing Isaiah in the ribs and throwing him to the ground. And then Jorin was on top of him, his fingers closing around his neck. They wrestled, moving too quickly for me to get a good shot off.
Blast.
I grabbed the stunner and braced myself to pull its trigger, but Jorin and Isaiah were locked together. If I stunned Jorin, the blast would hit Isaiah as well. Isaiah was freakishly silent, the pressure on his neck preventing him from making so much as a gasp.
Before I could think about it any further, I reached out and grabbed the slender, slippery screen stem and used the bed to pull myself back up. Half the duvet came with me. I shoved it aside as though it were on fire and threw myself on top of Jorin. I plunged the screen stem into his neck, then pulled it back as hard as I could.
The entire action had taken less than five seconds, but I knew immediately what I had done.
Jorin reared back, releasing Isaiah’s neck. The momentum carried through, and he tottered for a second on his knees before continuing to fall backward. I jumped out of the way just as his body hit the carpet. An awful gargling noise emerged from his throat and mouth.
His eye caught mine, and I stared, horrified, as dark blood covered his tongue and teeth and spilled from the wound in his neck onto the pale threads of the carpet.
Isaiah rolled to the side, gasping, and I jumped over Jorin to kneel next to him.
There was a sickening wheeze as Jorin struggled for air, and I looked from Eren’s prone body to Jorin’s face, then down at the tiny smear of blood on the side of my hand. I was afraid to watch Jorin, but more afraid not to.
It was all over in a matter of seconds. His head lolled to the side, and he never breathed again.
Isaiah stood beside me. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
That’s when I realized I was making a weird, moaning noise. I clamped my mouth shut.
“I—Ise. I killed him.”
“Yeah. I’m not going to lose any sleep over that one. Neither should you.” There was a strange pause, and a moment passed between us. Isaiah seemed to choose his next words carefully. “What do you want to do about Eren?”
“I—I’m not sure. I wish he were awake.”
“I think we should leave him, Char.”
I looked at Isaiah. He was probably right, but it felt all kinds of wrong. Eren was safe in Central Command. There was exactly zero chance that the Commander would hurt him physically. He would protect his son at all costs. On that count, I understood him well: so would I.
I could never be his wife. I was too broken for that.
But I could make him safe.
I had no doubt as to what I needed to do next in order to accomplish that. My hand tightened around the stunner.
“Can you get to my dad and stop Adam? We don’t have much time.”
Isaiah pressed his mouth together and nodded slowly.
“Good,” I said. “I’m not coming with you, Ise.”
He reached for my hand. “Char. Come on. You fulfilled your end of the deal. Heck, your dad is out there, about to fight my battle for me. It’s time for you to come home.”
Around and around.
I wanted off this insane merry-go-round.
My hand pulled back from his. “No. It’s like you said. This is a war. And I’m putting an end to it. All of it. Right now.”
I flicked Jorin’s access card out of his pocket and forced Isaiah’s hurt, confused face out of my mind. I was through the door and up the stairwell in about three seconds. I did not look back. My heart was pounding so fast that I needed to catch my breath, even though that was maybe the shortest sprint ever.
I’m coming for you, Commander. It’s my game now.
Thirty-five
At the entrance to the Command Level, my k-band began to blip. I paused in the stairwell, wondering what could possibly be so important that the Asian Ark needed to ping me right then.
I didn’t wonder long.
“Charlotte? Ambassador? This is the Imperial. Can you hear me?” An’s sweet, lilting voice filled the metal landing.
“An! Yes, I can hear you. I’m almost there. We just need a little more time.”
She spoke as though she didn’t hear me. “Ambassador Everest, I desire a word, if you please.”
“This is Turner,” I said quickly. “Everest is… uh, he’s indisposed.”
“Turner, then, if you haven’t taken his name. Tell me something, Ambassador. I believed that we understood each other. Was I wrong to believe that?”
“No! I mean, of course not! I am doing the best I can. Look, I’m married and everything.”
She laughed, and I felt myself freeze at the sound. There was nothing sweet or lilting about it. “That doesn’t concern me anymore,” she said, her voice like sharp silver. “I can hardly sit by and allow you to destroy another Ark. Our agreement is off.”
“What? No, it can’t be! We’re going to stop Adam! We still have a few hours! You can’t do this!”
“Your in-fighting no longer concerns me, either. Your Ark is armed, Ambassador.”
“I know! I’m trying to end the battle. It’s a little more complicated than we exp—”
“Not the people on the Ark, Charlotte. The Ark itself. My radar shows that a fully-equipped nuclear warhead has loaded into launch position.” She paused, letting her meaning sink in. “I’m afraid we have reached an impasse. Our negotiations are over.”
I was numb. A nuclear weapon? I braced myself on the cold steel door.
“The Commander,” I whispered.
“It is possible,” said An.
“An. Your Imperial—please, An. Please give me a little time. I’ll stop him. Give me an hour.”
“I’m afraid that is quite impossible, my dear friend. I am sorry it had to end this way.”
“WAIT! An, no! Don’t fire! Give me half an hour!”
“I cannot do that, Charlotte.”
“Ten minutes! All I need is ten minutes to disarm it. Please, An! I know you don’t want to kill us. Why else would you warn me? Ten minutes, I beg you.”
There was a long pause while a girl a little older than I decided the fate of a hundred thousand souls from a universe away.
“Five.”
Five minutes? Was she serious? I forced myself to maintain a composed tone of voice. Panic was my enemy. “You are seriously overestimating my abilities, An.”
“You are underestimating mine.”
The ice in her voice shocked me to my senses. An may have wanted peace, but her absolute priority was her people. In delaying her attack even an instant, she was already going against her better judgment.
“Okay, okay. I understand. Five minutes.”
“Good luck, Char
lotte Everest.”
I shook my head again, forcing myself to stay in the game. I couldn’t think about that name right now. “Thank you, An.”
I swiped Jorin’s card against the lock of the Command Level. Nothing happened. I harbored a fleeting moment of panic in spite of myself. What if the Commander had thought to deactivate Jorin’s access card? But I shook it off quickly. He’d drugged the bed and sent an armed assassin to kill us in our sleep. At this point, deactivating the card wouldn’t be the smart move; it’d be paranoid. I swiped again, willing my hand to move steadily.
The door to the Command Level sucked open before me, and I allowed myself a deep breath and a smile.
The smile was short-lived. Five minutes left to live.
Black carpet lined the gray hallway, leading to a series of identical black doors guarded by rows of complicated lights and buttons. The rooms were labeled with small dark plaques that said things like, “Gravity Management,” “Water Distribution” and “O2 Generation.”
My first problem would be figuring out which door led to the room that controlled the Ark’s illicit weapons system. I couldn’t think too far beyond that, or I’d probably panic. Again.
If I were the Commander, where would I put a room that shouldn’t even exist?
I rushed down the hallway, reading every sign along the way. It turned at sharp angles, but thankfully, it did not fork. I couldn’t get a feel for the layout of this level, but I knew I didn’t have time to make the entire loop, what with the impending nuclear strike and all. Maybe twenty yards down the way, one of the plaques grabbed my attention, and I stopped.
The sign read “Negotiations.”
Negotiating what, exactly? The Treaty was the last word on the relationships among the Arks, and the Tribune had the final say in its interpretation. And it’s not like they needed a room. They never met in person, so that their identities could never be compromised.
This room held a secret. I was sure of it.
I removed Jorin’s access card from my shirt and ran it over the scanner. A row of buttons lit up above it, and I pressed the green one. The door slid open, a cleaner sound than the doors on the level below.
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